


Fractured Skull

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, New Year's Eve, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: A disgruntled client, an attack and an epiphany.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 31
Kudos: 78





	Fractured Skull

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChrisCalledMeSweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCalledMeSweetie/gifts).



> "You can't sweep something into a bag and call it whole. It takes repair." - Paula Heller Garland.

Monday 28th December -

Walking back from the shops arm in arm with Mrs. Hudson, John reflected on the past week. Christmas had been lovely really. Sherlock had behaved, for Sherlock that is, and had even seemed to enjoy their "isolation" holiday, the lockdown sparing them from the traditional Holmes Christmas Dinner. Hudders had cooked and baked, John had decorated and Sherlock had, albeit not joyfully, provided violin music. The only kerfuffle had occurred when John put a Santa Hat on the skull but the commotion quickly passed when eggnog laced with double shots of dark rum appeared.

Sherlock was genuinely pleased to receive John's gift of new leather gloves, the detective having lost his in their last dash through London alleys and the subsequent scuffle with a purse snatcher/pickpocket who John suspected had actually "liberated" the gloves from Sherlock's coat.

John had rolled his eyes, shaken his head and then laughed himself silly when Sherlock's gift to him was a year's home delivery from Milk & More. Every morning by 7am they would have fresh milk in glass bottles, cheese and yogurt on their doorstep.

"This for me or you?", John had teased. Sherlock countered, "Does it matter?" ... It didn't. Boxing Day had been calm but a storm was brewing with Sherlock obsessing the entire weekend over a lack of "the work". 

John had finally lost his temper this morning berating his stroppy flatmate for being too persnickety about what cases to take on. "You should just take the next client to come along even if it's a lost hamster!" Fuming, John had stormed out the door mask in place, to accompany Martha to the shops whether she wanted company or not.

Now laden down with enough food to feed an army, John was lost in his own thoughts. Hudders voice cut through the fog. "I know you said not to fuss dear but I simply couldn't resist trying these Mary Berry recipes for New Year's Eve. Beef Wellington, Fennel and potato gratin, Sprouts with chestnuts and pancetta, and Sticky Toffee pudding. Everything but the beef can be prepped some in advance so it won't be a chore. Can you think of anything I've forgotten? John...John?"

"Sorry Martha, I was ah..."

"Thinking of Sherlock? It was impossible not to overhear your little domestic earlier."

"Yeah, I get so damned frustrated sometimes. It's like NOTHING can distract him."

Bumping his side as much as her hip would allow, she smiled. "I have a few ideas but I think it's best you discover them for yourself."

"Ideas? What ideas? I don't understand."

"Exactly, dear",she sighed.

Just then 221B came into view. As soon as they stepped inside it was immediately apparent that danger was afoot. From upstairs a loud crash was followed by the sounds of a shrieking woman. Dropping the bags, John tore up the stairs as Martha, always prepared, tapped the Bluetooth in her ear summoning the police.

John arrived in the flat just in time to see a woman, wildly swinging a formidable looking hammer, about to crack Sherlock in the head as he fell to his knees in an effort to protect his violin. In seconds John subdued her, none too gently, and two of the coppers permanently assigned to patrol the area around Baker Street (thanks to Mycroft) cuffed and took her away.

Trying to restart his heart so he could breathe again John gasped, "Who...what...how? You had a choice of protecting your brain or your violin and you chose your bloody violin?!"

"A Stradivarius isn't any old violin, John. At the time it seemed..."

"Stupid?! Who is she, what did she want?"

"Gave her name as a Ms. Truelove, nothing more. The rest I deduced. Perfect grammar, authority figure, numerous telltale red ink marks on the fingers of her dominant hand obviously from grading end of term papers. Therefore, a teacher beyond a doubt."

"Oh, beyond a doubt. So a schoolteacher got the drop on you?"

"There's no need for sarcasm, John. She was quite athletic from vigorous exercise with her dogs, several different types of canine hair on her trousers, and her frequent equestrian outings."

"Horsewoman then, how do you figure that?"

"Again, do keep up John. Clearly evident by her well developed muscled thighs."

John snorted, "In the habit of inspecting teacher's thighs are you?"

"For the case, John! Speaking of which, YOU were the one who insisted I take any case."

"What WAS the case?"

"Strangely, you."

"Me?! I was the case?"

"Inexplicably she was fixated on your blog and thus, by association, you."

"So she wanted to what...meet me, date me?", he shuddered.

"No, men...not her area. Nevertheless, she was preoccupied with your love life and was rather emphatic that it was evident from your blog entries that you are smitten with me. By a process of skewed logic she concluded that my failure to publicly reciprocate was denying you 'the happiness you so richly deserve' to quote her exact words."

"That's...um...it's..."

"I concur although I fail to see how she thought assaulting me with a hammer would deliver her the desired results as it is impossible to literally knock sense into someone."

Desperate to change the subject John stammered, "Well, thankfully you seem unscathed so let's take a quick look around and check for any damage." Raising his eyes from the floor he was startled to see Sherlock, his face a mask of horror, focused on the mantle. 

Following his line of sight, John was heartsick to see what remained of Billy the skull, shattered by a hammer blow, strewn across the rug. "Oh Sherlock I'm...here, let me..."

"NO!! The tone was so vehement it brooked no argument. Without another word Sherlock bent to pick up the Santa Hat which lay among the detritus and placed all the bone fragments into it. Crossing to the kitchen he binned the lot and went to his room.

In the deathly quiet left behind John retrieved the hat and, cradling it like a precious treasure, opened his laptop.

🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀🔨💀

Thursday 31st December - 

The ensuing days were hell. No matter what John or Martha did Sherlock was inconsolable. John knew Sherlock's attachment to the skull and what it represented was deeply ingrained in his Mind Palace. Billy had seen Sherlock through despair, addiction, recovery, reinvention and finally to what passed as contentment. Losing Billy was like losing a part of himself and John was having nothing of it.

For her part Martha had spent three days preparing not only her feast but insuring that they would have their New Year's Eve supper in something other than a health hazard. The sitting room and kitchen of the boys flat had been scrubbed sparkling clean with an ulterior motive of keeping a motherly eye on Sherlock.

Now the table was set and she and John hoped for the best. To their relief and delight Sherlock appeared in his usual bespoke suit and a vermilion shirt that definitely "did things" for John.

"Oh my, you look so handsome dear."

"Thank you Hudders. I couldn't bring myself to insult the occasion when you've worked so hard. John is there wine?"

John stopped staring long enough to open a bottle from Mycroft that he was sure could finance a small country. "Yeah, just needs to breathe for a few minutes."

"Perfect", Martha chirped, "we can start on these salmon and cream cheese canapés while we wait. I just happen to have mixed us each a small gin and tonic to wash them down."

Sherlock managed to eat one and by the time the wine was ready the "small" G&T had mellowed his mood.

Wine poured they sat down and Martha, trying to forestall any unpleasantness, served all of them a few bites of everything in an effort to entice and not intimidate their "picky eater".

Despite his intentions Sherlock found he WAS hungry and by the time the last of the pudding was eaten he had taken not only second helpings but thirds. 

Patting his stomach John whistled, "A triumph, Hudders, a veritable triumph!" 

"Thank you dear", she said putting the last of the food in the fridge, "now who's for a glass of Port?"

Sherlock couldn't help a weak smile, "Are you trying to have your way with us?"

"Heavens no! I prefer my men much younger than you two."

John stood, "On THAT note, I've a little surprise planned."

"Goody, I love surprises!", Martha squeaked clapping her hands.

John went up to his room, returned with a box wrapped in shiny purple paper topped with a fancy white bow and placed it on the table in front of Sherlock. "Go on then, you only need to lift the lid."

"John Watson if this is a glitter bomb..."

"And have Martha make ME clean it up? Not likely. Just open it."

The lid was slowly removed to reveal a mound of black bubble wrap topped with the Santa Hat. Face clouding over Sherlock snarled, "Your idea of a cruel joke?"

"Not a joke, merely part of the surprise. Honestly, you call ME slow, there's more."

Warily, Sherlock peeled back the bubble wrap, froze and then gingerly removed the prize- Billy. No longer fractured into jagged pieces, the skull had been fully restored with every shard and fissure expertly mended with broad strokes and fine lines of lacquer that gleamed gold in the fairy lights in the room.

"John it's Kintsugi the oriental art of repairing by..."

"I know, 'Golden Joinery'."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"Contrary to your opinion, I DO see things. When we were in the museum for the Blind Banker case I saw some examples. And I DID do more in Chinatown than eat dumplings and yell through a letter box like a madman."

"It's wonderful John", Martha gushed, "but the two gold teeth... are those fangs?"

Looking sheepish he turned to Sherlock, "Weirdly, as if anything in our lives ISN'T weird, the canine teeth were the only bits I didn't find so..."

Sherlock grinned, "I like them! Makes my 'friend' look like a rakish vampire."

"I'm glad, although I reckon we'll eventually find the originals here years from now under some piece of furniture we hadn't been arsed to care to move in decades."

"And it will probably be ME hoovering them up even then. Don't give me that look boys. I fully intend to live longer than the Queen Mother did. That gives me a good thirty years yet so you had better keep that in mind."

Putting a finger in the air in way of a pronouncement Sherlock quipped, "We shall install a lift so as not to deprive you of the pleasures of hoovering AND bringing us tea every day."

"Shan't be needing a lift. By then I'll be zipping around on one of those hover board thingies from that 'Back to the Future' film."

John began to giggle, "And Sherlock and I will have rollerblades with jet packs in the wheels so we can still chase down criminals."

Sherlock then chimed in, "And Greg...Greg?! I called him Greg, too much wine! At any rate, he'll be Commissioner of New Scotland Yard with a flying car and Mycie will have a giant drone umbrella so he can soar all over the United Kingdom without getting his cake wet."

Giggles became guffaws and soon all three were wiping tears from their eyes. That was when Martha saw a look pass between her boys that said adoration and love. "Don't sit there like great lumps you two, put Billy back where he belongs."

Staggering slightly with holiday "spirit", Sherlock settled Billy in pride of place on the mantle and John plopped the Santa Hat back on the bony head. Sherlock opened his mouth to protest. "Not one word", John wheezed good naturedly, "he's Billy. He wears the damn hat!"

"I was only going to say thank you John. This is the best gift I've ever received."

A soft murmur behind them broke the reverie. "It's been a fantastic evening dears but I'm afraid I'll not be seeing midnight except in my dreams. I will however be collecting New Year's hugs and kisses tomorrow."

"And tons of tasty leftovers right Sherlock?"

"Indeed John! Nice of you to volunteer your reheating skills."

🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀🎁💀

Having seen Martha safely downstairs they retired to their chairs with steaming cups of tea. "Do you really John?"

"Really what?"

"See us here years from now, together?"

"I do if you do." He stretched with a groan, "Nearly midnight and I'm not regretting us having no noisemakers as I'm sensing a possible hangover on the horizon to christen the New Year."

"Not even any fireworks this year. How are we meant to celebrate?"

John rose and knelt between Sherlock's splayed legs. "Well at least Big Ben will ring again and there are other ways to make fireworks, if you want to."

Wide eyed Sherlock whispered, "I do if you do. Wait, didn't we already have this conversation?"

"Not this exact conversation." 

Outside the sounds of car horns and people banging on pots and pans began filling the air. "Guess it's time. Happy New Year John."

"Happy New Year Sherlock. Can I kiss you?"

"You can and you MAY."

"Come here you posh git!!"

The first kiss was tender and slow, the second more assured and enthusiastic. Beyond that it moved to the sofa and there, amidst quiet and tender "I love yous", they made their own fireworks.

In the morning Hudders climbed the stairs to find them still on the sofa wrapped in each other's arms, sleeping peacefully. She covered them with a throw and noticed Billy seemed to be smirking. Conspiratorially she chuckled, "Well done you. First time a fractured skull proved to be a good thing. And just between you and me", she winked, "I KNEW they wouldn't be needing two bedrooms."

🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊

**Author's Note:**

> For dearest ChrisCalledMeSweetie on New Year's Eve because...well, she knows why.😉
> 
> *Milk & More is still providing "to your door" delivery of dairy goods in London.  
> **All Mary Berry recipes are available online through Google.  
> ***Golden Joinery is the most accurate translation for Kintsugi.  
> ****Any resemblance of Ms. Truelove to an actual living person is purely coincidental.🙃
> 
> As we say goodbye to a trying 2020 may we all look forward to a 2021 that offers a beacon of hope. Thank you to all who have read, commented and supported my writing in the past year and as always kudos and comments are my jam. I wish for everyone a happy and healthy New Year.  
> ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Pat


End file.
